Near to You
by Zagury
Summary: Luna helps George cope after Fred's death. Based off A Fine Frenzy/Alison Sudol's 'Near to You.' Chapters written according to lyrics.
1. Dysfunctional

I collapsed at his feet. Tears streamed from my eyes, my hands wrenched in his clothing. His last grin, his last laugh was etched on his face. I sobbed, gasping for air, my body shaking so uncontrollably that I feared I would collapse myself. I felt the other half of me—his half of me—tear away from my heart, from my mind—from my soul.

Fred could not be dead.

But I know he is.

I could have sat there for years and not moved. I cried, reliving each and every moment we had spent together that I could remember. The day we opened the joke shop. The day we rode our first brooms. The day we left Hogwarts. The first night we had at Hogwarts together. I cried and cried. I couldn't stop. I was unable.

We had spent our entire lives together. We hadn't taken more than three days apart at a time. And now I… I was expected to keep living? I was expected to attend his funeral and not have him as my best man at my wedding? The only reason I had been able to live away from my parents at Hogwarts was because of Fred. He was my family, my brother, my twin—my half. He was my best friend. He is my best friend.

There doesn't seem to be any possibility of my life continuing on. I know he is gone. There isn't a way for us to keep a stable connection anymore. Everything we had done together is now… over. I don't know if I'll be able to keep the joke shop running without him there. Our relationship had been based on truth and honesty and brotherhood. With that tie now severed, what will I do? Where will I go?

I feel a warm hand on my shoulder, startling me. I look up from Fred's dead body. His face is pale white. His eyes are closed. His body is ice, no longer the heat I was so accustomed to. His flaming hair is an odd color against his skin, so extravagant but so natural. I feel the hair on my head and wonder if I look the same. I wonder if, for the first time in our lives, we do not look like twins.

"George," her soft voices whispers to me. I feel her lean down next to me, her hand enveloping mine. My throat is dry, so I turn my tear stained face to look at her. Her face is dirty, her skin streaked with tear tracks. Her hair is disheveled, tangled in all the wrong places. Her piercing eyes stare into mine concernedly. Another sob forms its way out of my lungs and I press my face into her chest.

"Luna," I manage.

"We have to leave. It's too dangerous out here. There are Death Eaters everywhere, strictly on Lord Voldemort's orders to kill anyone who is working for the Order. Come on, George. We have to leave." Her hands are pulling me up but my body is limp and refuses to move.

"Let them come," I rasp. "I want to kill them all."

"Don't say that. Come on, we have to go." Luna's arms are dragging me slowly down the corridor, away from Fred. I scream at that, fighting to get away from her. I eventually do, her grip stronger than I knew. I make my way back to him, falling over his dead body and sobbing. My lungs feel as though they will tear in half, but there is so much pain in my heart that it overrules everything.

"George, we need to move. _Now_." She is tugging at my robes again.

"I can't leave. Not without Fred."

"Fred will be along shortly," Luna whispers in my ear, her arm wrapping around my body so that her hand is pressed against my heart. "Do you have your wand?" I nod, placing a hand on Fred's cold, cold wrist.

"Goodbye," I whisper. I feel tears leak, leak, leak from my eyes and down my face, but I don't have the time nor patience to wipe them away them. They will only return, anyway. I glance back at the once lively reflection of myself. I remove my hand and Luna Apparates us out of there and into the Gryffindor common room, stumbling on entrance.

"I've never done side along Apparation before." She mumbled, falling into the couch cushions. I sit down next to her, my hands wrenching together as I try to find the words. I end up crying again. I press my face into her cool skin and weep. I weep until she puts a hand on my knee, maybe to reassure me, maybe to offer me comfort. I stop then, because I think she had something to say. I stop crying. I take the gesture as both options and wrap my arms around her.

I lift my head and look down at her. She is so pale and worried. I have never seen her so distraught. She had always been so collected. But now Luna cries into my shoulder, something I have never seen her do. It is not something I want to experience again.

I just hold her.

I can't cry anymore.

_He and I had something beautiful,  
But so dysfunctional, it couldn't last.  
I loved him so but I let him go,  
'Cause I knew he'd never love me back._


	2. Delirious

"I'm sorry," she says against my shoulder. I don't respond, letting my hands run through her snarled hair.

"Are we just going to sit up here and let the war go on?" I ask her.

"George, I'm tired of fighting."

"Me too, Luna, but—"

"George, they killed my father." I pull back and look at her. There is a foreign expression on her face: a mixture of sadness and fear. I realize that her hands are clenching my robes, her eyes filled with unshed tears. I brush some of the hair back from her forehead. She bows her head, her arms locking around my neck. She stifles a few sobs, but nothing turns out right and she's weeping again.

"Oh, Luna…" I say, holding her tight against me.

"Don't make me go back out there." She whispers desperately.

"I won't, Luna. I promise."

"Don't go back out there, either." She says, her grip tightening.

"I have to. The rest of my family is out there." _The rest of my family could be dead._

"I need you. Please stay."

So I stay.

The thing about Luna Lovegood is this: I've never really known her. We've been something you could call friends for the past few years, ever since Harry started the D.A., but nothing quite beyond that. I still don't know what her favourite candy is, or where she would prefer to go in Hogsmeade. But each day from the start of the war, we've been side by side. We've hardly had the time for small talk, but rather battle orders or strategies.

There hasn't been time to sit down and figure out what we want to do when the war is over. When she was captured by the Death Eaters and taken prisoner, I nearly died. She was my closest friend aside from Fred, even if I didn't really know her. She knew me. We stayed in contact while she was at school by way of the Galleons Hermione had once issued for D.A. members. I tried endlessly to floo or owl her, but I couldn't say anything personal for fear of my life.

When the battle at Hogwarts began, we resumed our positions just like we were supposed to. We knew what we had to do. Fred and I were on her sides while she watched behind us. Luna had a very, very quick mind, therefore she could cast and aim rapidly. Her spells were extremely powerful, but always something that would wear off eventually. Normally she cast stunning charms, but when called for it, she produced fire to block their access.

Needless to say, Fred and I didn't have to worry about Luna's protection.

With Luna fighting the rear, Fred caught her left and ahead while I had the right. We didn't come across too many battles of our own, but often jumped into already occurring ones. We fought alongside Remus and Tonks most of the time, as they had the same route as we did. Sometimes I saw Bill and told him to come over to us. We never really did find Charlie like we hoped—Charlie has a nasty combat mode—but we always continued on. We had to.

It felt like hours had passed, sitting on that worn red couch with Luna, but I look down at my watch. Twenty minutes. I scope around the old common room that I spent years in. The carpet was still stained from where Lee had "accidentally" poured acid on it. A tapestry still had a burn mark from Fred's charms practice and mine. This old couch was still here, just as lumpy and comfortable as ever.

Tired, weary and weak, Luna falls asleep against me. I welcome her warm body, my arms still wrapped around her in attempt to comfort her. Her breathing is steady, her chest rising and falling in a slow pattern. Her expression is serene, her lips parted slightly. I wave my wand, clearing her face of dirt and untangling her hair. She smiles minutely in her sleep, as if she knew I was taking care of her.

The noise outside is coming to an end. I feel as though we've been sitting here an eternity. Without waking her, I keep Luna in my arms and lift her up. I carry her out of the common room and onto down the Grand Staircase. I note that the Fat Lady is no longer in her frame, but crying and clutching to her friend in the portrait over.

I could easily Apparate into the Great Hall, but I deicide that I need to clear my head. Carrying the weight of Luna and the weight of my brother's death balance each other out. I carry something wonderful and I carry something painful. I feel the cool, brisk air fill my lungs as I reach the Great Hall. There is hardly anyone in here but a few people tending to the wounded.

Or tending to the dead.

I ask someone—she looks about sixteen—where everyone is. She tells me that everyone is still fighting, and then she asks me if Luna is hurt. She doesn't have to imply what she is really thinking. I turn away from her, a protectiveness coming over me. She, this girl, will not take Luna way from me. They have already taken Fred. So I try to kindly tell her that Luna is fine, just fine, that everything is under control and I find a wooden bench for us to sit down on.

"Luna, you need to wake up." I say, squeezing her shoulder. She stirs slowly, looking up into my face.

"The war is still going. I need to go out there and make sure everyone is okay." Her eyes snap up to meet mine.

"Then I'm coming with you." The whites of her eyes are defiant, determined—willing.

We run out of the Great Hall and into the grounds, not expecting anything fair. Spells fly in every direction, and I hear the maniacal laugh of Bellatrix Lestrange somewhere in the distance. I see Ginny, her hair wild and dirt smearing her features. She casts her famous Bat-Bogey on someone, grinning but sprinting towards us. She is breathing hard when she reaches us.

"What's going on?" I ask her.

"We're just… fighting… no one can find… Harry. We think he… slipped off somewhere… to finish off Bellatrix." Her face went white. "Or Voldemort." I pulled her to my side quickly.

"Listen," I say, because I want her to. "They killed Fred." She became paler and she wrapped an arm around my body as I continued talking. "They killed Luna's father, too. We were just in the common room trying to gain back a little energy. We need to find Ron and Hermione, make sure they're okay, and then see what Bill and Charlie are doing."

"Bill and Charlie are dueling some Death Eaters. They've gotten a few down, but they ones they're battling don't seem very experienced. I don't know where mum or dad is. Neville is getting the… bodies." She swallowed. "Ron and Hermione are getting the house elves out of the kitchen, as far as I know. Everything else is this," she waved her arm around the battle scene. I nodded hurriedly and unraveled myself from her.

"Take Luna's left. I've got her right. She'll cover our back. We need to find mum." Ginny nodded and hugged Luna briefly before taking her position. We ran as fast as we could together down the hill and into the battle.

I was struck by many memories with Fred, playing Quidditch outside in the sunny, warm air just before summer term. An aching hit my chest, but I struggled to keep moving with my baby sister and best friend. My twin spoke to me inside my head, but I can't know if it is my voice trying to be him or if it's really that twin thing we've always had.

_Keep going._

_Keep fighting._

_I'm still here._

_Such pain as this  
Shouldn't have to be experienced.  
I'm still reeling from the loss,  
Still a little bit delirious._

"GEORGE!" Ginny screams, pulling me down as Luna shouts, _"Protego!"_ above us. A curse rebounds off our veil of protection, turning wildly in the opposite direction.

"Please be more careful next time." Luna yells over the noise, pulling me up from the ground. We stop every thirty seconds to fight for what seems decades, but we have our opponents stunned and we're moving again. Ginny is firing spells furiously while Luna repels. They had obviously figured this out at the Ministry together three years ago. I bring up the rear now, pushing them along so that we don't have time to think, agree, speak, or breathe.

We continue on.


	3. Healing

A long, painful, suffering, aching year has passed since that night. There were more deaths than we would like to remember, more lives saved than we can really recall. Hogwarts remains under Dumbledore's quiet rule, but is supervised by McGonagall's reign. There were endless amounts of funerals after that night, that morning. I shed more tears than I will ever again.

Luna's warm hand takes mine once more as we proceed down Diagon Alley. We've just closed the shop after a nice business day—not too wild but not too slow. I offered Luna a job there as a second owner, just because I wanted her company and I knew I couldn't do it alone. She has brilliant ideas for jokes and pranks, so I figured she'd be a valuable resource. She works there with me, mostly behind the counter and I do the "field work." I mainly stay out on the floor with customers while she sits, editing the Quibbler.

We do this every night, walking through Diagon Alley and into London. We find it relaxing. Sometimes we talk, but most of the time we remain silent. We find it so much easier that way. We communicate without words.

In the months following the war, Luna and I had become close. Actual friends. Luna likes treacle tarts the most, if that counted as candy, and pudding is her favourite dessert. She likes to sit by the lake and let her toes dip in and out of the water, basking in the sun all day long. Sometimes I join her, sometimes I don't.

For weeks, I was in a withdrawal. Before I opened the shop again, I sat in my flat all day long. I did nothing. I ate just enough to keep me going. I tried to sleep most of the day, but that never worked. Usually I ended up spending my time sitting on the sofa and staring, staring, staring at the wall. Mum had decorated it with pictures of our family when Fred and I had moved in. She had said it was for the days we felt lonely. We always joked that we wouldn't need it because we were never lonely.

Look where I am now.

Those pictures had been wonderful for the months I had secluded myself. Mum had often come over and updated the wall with newer photographs. The very first one she hung was one of her and dad. They were just sitting there, smiling up at the camera. It wasn't posed, just a quick shot, but it was enough to make me smile. The most recent addition was Harry and Ginny dancing alongside Ron and Hermione. Ginny was laughing and Hermione was blushing, Harry grinning and Ron swaying without a solid rhythm.

I had put an enchanted ward around my property to prevent anyone from coming to see me. I accepted only owls, and they eventually gave up on those. Everyone except mum, who insisted on inviting me to dinner every Sunday. I never did attend, but it was always so gratifying to know that they still wanted me to be with them.

When I had first come out of the period of my life, I had thought that my mum's persistence had brought me out of it. Now, looking back on it, it was really all those pictures. I wanted to have that life again, that carefree and loving life. I wanted to be around my baby sister, I wanted to listen to her laugh. I longed to see Ron stuff his face just so I could poke some fun at him. I wanted my family back.

It was a few weeks after that that I hired Luna. She radiates some kind of positive energy that keeps me moving. Every day, she just looks up from whatever it is she's reading and takes the time to smile at me. Sometimes I can manage to smile back, and others I can't. Even now, as she's tugging me along, I can feel her pure happiness and contentment with life. It is so amazing to know that she can feel so complete.

When we arrive at Luna's flat, I expect the usual 'Goodnight, George,' from her. Instead, she grips the front of my cloak and pulls me closer. I can smell the sweet scent of her breath. I brush the hair back from her forehead, wrapping one arm around her waist. It is snowing, the flakes falling on us lightly. We stand there for a minute, our eyes open, just scanning each other's features. It is nice, very relaxing.

I don't think I've ever realized how pretty Luna Lovegood actually is.

"Will you kiss me?" Luna says.

"Of course." I reply, and I do. Her lips are sweet and soft. She opens her mouth to me, letting me taste the bitter licorice of her tongue. I sigh against her kiss. When I pull away from her, she smiles at me. She stands on her tiptoes and kisses me again, teasing me and urging me on.

"Thank you," she says, her grin spreading across her features.

"Of course," I say, smiling back at her.

I Apparate back home to my flat above the shop. I brew some tea and cook up a fire. I hear a small tapping at my window. It is Luna's owl, Nargal. I welcome him in and feed him a treat. He's familiar with my home, perching himself by the fire to warm his feathers.

_I forgot to say goodnight._

I smile as I read her letter in the firelight. I grab my quill and write quickly:

_So did I. _

I send Nargal on his way.

Several nights pass, each ending like the one before. Neither of us suggested plans for dating or getting together during other times of the day off work. It seemed that we weren't interested in that. I wasn't ready to go back into full swing with women, and I don't think Luna was ready to back into full swing with men. I longed to know what she did before bed, or what she did before work, but those were things I had to pace out. I had to wait to discover anything that would help me understand the enigma that is Luna Lovegood.

When she went back to school for her seventh year, she didn't have anywhere to call home for breaks. We took her in at the Burrow for every one of them. Everyone bought her a Christmas present, and everyone got her Easter chocolates. She roomed with Ginny for the most part, but sometimes dear Harry occupied that. So I took her in quite often, even when Ginny didn't need me to. Sometimes I just wanted her there.

Of course, the room I had shared with Fred was always open. But my mother had locked the door to that. No one knew the spell to undo it except my dad, and he wasn't about to be unfaithful. I supposed that there were too many painful memories that kept her away from our room. Like when she used to come in when I was three or four, because Fred had wet the bed and I was laughing at him for it. She'd scold me and clean up the mess. Or like when she used to take care of Fred when he had the flu, which he often got from his lack of cleanliness, and he stayed in bed all day while I played with old knick-knacks.

I really didn't care to go back into that room either.

Luna has often asked me about having a mother, but sometimes I honestly don't know how to answer. It was indescribable to have someone love you for the pure reason of being you. I had made so many mistakes, many in their fair proportion, which my mother had forgiven me for. I haven't entirely forgiven myself for many of them, but it relieves me that someone can.

It is strange to come home and have the house quiet now. The Burrow used to be bustling with all of us Weasley children. Now, with Bill married off, Ron with Hermione, Charlie in Romania, and Percy at the Ministry, Ginny is the only one that lives at home. Luna says that she doesn't want to leave my parents.

But I know Ginny better than that.

Luna and I walk through the cobbled streets of London, the snow falling swiftly and carelessly as we make our way to her home. Our feet crunch in the snow that is already on the ground. Her hand is warm in mine even though our skin is freezing.

Before I can kiss her goodnight, she says, "Would you like to come in?" I nod, following her inside. It is heated and homey, a worn sofa in the middle of the room. There is a table that has books, magazines and newspapers strewn all over it. A wool blanket covers the sofa, nicely sewed. The kitchen is small, but just the right size at the same time. I see two doorways that lead into two separate rooms, probably the loo and bedroom.

"It's lovely in here." I comment, taking off my cloak and hanging in on the rack.

"Yes, I rather like it." She replies. She let's me look around before taking my hand again and leading me onto the sofa. It feels just like the one in the Gryffindor common room, lumpy in all the right places and comfortable. Luna smiles at me slightly, her fingers ghosting my cheek. I move so that I'm lying down and she's on top of me.

"This is comfy," she mumbles, her lips parted as she moves her hands down to my shirt. I kiss her, deeper than I had dared before, but with her unbuttoning my shirt and my hands in her hair, I can't really care. We keep kissing, her hands running up and down my sides to create sweet friction. Her bottom lip fastens between mine quite nicely, and repeatedly she opens her mouth to me. I sigh.

"Luna," I manage against her simply intoxicating lips.

"Mmm?"

"I think we should stop."

"I suppose you're right," she replies, but she keeps kissing me like she does. With all of the strength I can muster, I pull away from her. She grins at me while I move her off my lap. She is much lighter than I had assumed; she is just a mere wisp under my hands. I sigh and button my shirt up again, somewhat unwillingly with her staring at me like that. We find a position that is comfortable enough, with her lying on top of me while I sink into the couch cushions.

We talk for a long time. She tells me of her father and I tell her of Fred. She tells me of her childhood and I tell her of our pranks. Luna tells of me of her mother and I tell her of Ginny. There was always something motherly about Ginny when we were growing up. She always wanted to help us when we were playing outside, or she was constantly looking after us in the heat of the sun. Luna said she doesn't remember much of her mother, just that she was the epitome of her role.

At one point or another, I start nodding off. I briefly ask Luna if she wants me to leave, but she just shakes her head and falls asleep on top of me. I follow suit quickly.

When I wake, I've forgotten where I am. There is a warm body on top of mine, their fingers tickling my biceps as I come to. I chuckle a little at the feeling. I look around the room, but there is really nothing to see; the sun hasn't risen yet. Luna pulls herself away from me, standing up and taking the wand that was still behind her ear. She cast a charm that caused the lights to come on.

"Good morning, Luna." I say, stretching my arms out.

"Good morning, George." She replies, making her way toward the kitchen and casting a few charms.

It is strange to hear those words again. I have lived alone for close to a year now. When I was growing up and living in the Burrow, I was greeted that way every morning, just as I was sitting down to engulf my eggs and bacon. With Fred, we sort of kept the tradition going, even if we didn't use those exact words. But still, I like hearing them. I like being told that it is a good morning.

Since I came out of my stage of exile, I've attended Sunday dinners. Luna usually comes too, when she can, and it's nice to have her there. I can't remember if we've ever really extended the invitation more than twice, so I ask her this good morning if she would like to join us tonight. She says yes with a slight smile that I've grown used to seeing.

So we arrive there together, not holding hands or linking arms, but huddling close in the cold evening air. Mum smiles at us in her bright, warm way, enveloping us in her motherly embrace. I return it happily. Luna does the same. As we're hanging our cloaks up on the rack, I glance around the room.

The Burrow never changes, and maybe that's why I love it so much. Harry lounges in a rather comfy chair while Ginny leans against his legs as she sits on the floor. She is talking to Hermione and he is chatting with Ron. Or maybe they are in the same conversation. Bill and Fleur are in the kitchen, cooing their new baby Victorie. Charlie has managed to make it tonight, his grin huge as he talks to dad about dragons and Romania and all sorts of things.

This is the life I had wanted. This is the life I came back for. It was always here waiting for me.

_Near to you, I am healing,  
But it's taking so long,  
'Cause though he's gone,  
And you are wonderful,  
It's hard to move on.  
Yet, I'm better near to you._


End file.
